


heavy is the head (heavy is the crown)

by sourlemonblue



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Bottom Oikawa Tooru, Diplomacy, HQ Mini Bang 2020, Its Not Porn Until Theres Science In It, King Oikawa Tooru, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Praise Kink, Rimming, Spymaster Kuroo, Stress Relief, but not very much, defense expert daichi, do NOT copy to other apps or sites, for them AND me lmao, i go on a tanget with shoddy science involving period-realistic lube, i wrote the summary while drunk.........sorry mods, iwaizumi is referenced lol, just a heads up, offensive expert bokuto, oikawa gets Treated, there's one point where oikawa almost has a panic attack but he doesnt, they all work together to run the kingdom and are also gay together, they love each other SO MUCH......, work-related stress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:08:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24881323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sourlemonblue/pseuds/sourlemonblue
Summary: Running a kingdom takes a lot from a lot of different people. It leaves them with this: Tooru tends to be hard edges and sharp eyes, Daichi unmovingly stubborn; Bokuto is overzealous, and Kuroo is downright conniving.Still, in the quiet moments between guard inspections and banquets and god knows what else, they put the tender parts of themselves back together in sweet words and sweeter embraces.(Or, how to run a kingdom while keeping your burgeoning polycule together.)
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou/Oikawa Tooru/Sawamura Daichi
Comments: 4
Kudos: 46
Collections: HQ Mini Bang





	heavy is the head (heavy is the crown)

**Author's Note:**

> this was a fill for the 2020 HQ Mini-bang! i worked with adam (adamented on twitter), which was a real treat! their piece is beautiful, i'll link it when they post!
> 
> EDIT: heres the link!! im CRYING <https://twitter.com/adamented/status/1275524262586052608?s=20>
> 
> thanks to kou and dylan for betaing for me, like always!!!!
> 
> get ready for some Zest

The world shudders under His Majesty King Oikawa Tooru as he hears his spymaster’s words.

“We have received word from one of my operatives stationed near our northern border,” Kuroo says, voice low. “She has cause to believe that the attack against Rockpoint Town a few weeks ago was…potentially the work of more than just mere bandits.”

Oikawa’s head is propped on his hand. He doesn’t move but for the flick of his gaze up to meet Kuroo’s. “What does that mean?”

“...The attack matched with that of a previous attack we sustained in a similar area from King Ushijima’s forces.”

The king goes cold, ice running up his spine. He lets the words settle in the air around them, trying to collect himself.

“Say that again.”

Kuroo swallows visibly, and he knows his attempt wasn’t successful. “Your Majesty—”

“No, Kuroo. Give it to me straight. You just said—if this is a serious threat, I need to know _now._ Hell, I needed to know yesterday.” Oikawa’s hands are shaking against his lips, curled into white-knucked fists, almost like he’s praying.

The only thing he could be praying for right now is patience, and maybe King Ushijima’s stupid head on a platter. They’ve been planning the Banquet of Harmonious Intent for months now, and a possible attack like this from one of the guesting nations could only be construed one way.

“If this is a declaration of war—” The king bites the words away as soon as he can. Hearing them aloud is worse than he thought it could be. The panic washes over him, burning like a forge, branding a dagger to his spine. Every breath feels cold, but his limbs are hot. His pulse beats in his ears.

Kuroo stops him before he can descend too far into madness. “Majesty, let’s not jump to conclusions. I can have my operatives look into it. If additional action is required, we can make those decisions when—if the time comes.”

The king sighs, hands loosening slightly. He sags where he sits, and murmurs, “Gods. Tetsu, I—”

Kuroo’s given name draws him over to Oikawa’s chair, tugging him along like a stone falling to the earth. He drops to his knees beside his king, but when he reaches for his hand, it’s with the comfort of a lover on his lips.

“Tooru, please. Don’t get ahead of yourself. We don’t know the situation yet. It could be bandits, or an accident, or something entirely unrelated.” He skims across the back of Oikawa’s hand with his lips, breathing slowly. “It’s just my job, being your spymaster, to inform you of all possibilities when it comes to things like this.”

Tooru looks down to him, jaw still tight. “Are you going to get Iwa-chan to look into it?”

Tetsurou’s shifting gaze gives him away.

“It’s serious then,” Tooru reasons, standing, mind whirling, but his expression stony and still.

Tetsurou shakes his head, rising as he steps closer to Tooru. “He’s just good at his job, and in the right area of the country.”

That, at least, is true. Iwaizumi Hajime worked under Kuroo for several years as a top spyman, until his mother’s failing health called him back north to the village where he and Oikawa grew up together. If they ask nicely enough, he’ll still respond to some investigation requests, but usually only the ones that are close by.

Tetsu takes his king’s hand again, smiling thinly, but the facade isn’t worth much while backlit by their years together; Tooru can see right through it with ease.

Still, he says nothing. Tooru lets the words be the small comfort they’re meant to be, and presses himself into Tetsu’s arms with a quiet sniffle.

“At least if stupid Ushiwaka _is_ attacking now, then I can cancel the stupid party.”

Tetsurou wraps him up, and their height difference is only evident in times like these, when Tooru is bundled up in the arms of one of his closest advisors.

Tetsurou pulls away a little, and his smile is more genuine now. “We’re gonna get through this, okay? Even if we have to fight, we’re going to make it all work. You have a lot of people on your side; your citizens know you’re going to act in everyone’s best interests in the end.”

Tooru nods, cheeks still damp, but the brightness of tears in his eyes hardens minutely as he wipes his eyes with his sleeve. “I will do what I must.”

* * *

Sawamura is reading a report of some description over a pair of small-framed spectacles when Bokuto comes into his office. He reads the line of Bokuto’s shoulders, the glint in his eyes, and puts away the paperwork immediately. “What is it?”

“I’m sure Oikawa has told you.” Bokuto doesn’t sit, and Sawamura doesn’t stand. “I may be jumping the gun, but considering the timing, I don’t know if this particular incident is safe to ignore.”

Sawamura mulls it over for a moment. He’s seen Bokuto serious before—in the years they’ve worked beside each other in Oikawa’s palace, as the heads of the two main branches of the royal military, how could they not—but even then, he hasn’t seen him like _this_ in...years. He’s a force, riddled with nervous tension and constant movement. Sawamura can taste the battle experience on him in the way he stands, moves, the ways his golden eyes track minute details even Sawamura himself has trouble seeing (being Captain of the Royal Guard has its own set of perks, but less paperwork is decidedly not among them).

“If you believe this threat to be legitimate, I will take your word,” Sawamura says, keeping his tone as even as he can. “However, I think attacking back without word back from Kuroo’s men is...unwise. Our efforts are better suited to fortification of the palace and local towns.”

Bokuto whirls, and the situation is possibly worse than Sawamura thought. He’s clearly put out by Sawamura’s response, and the captain feels his heart jump into his mouth. Bokuto looks dangerous. He knows on some level that Bokuto is _always_ dangerous, being the General of Outgoing Armies who has seen many a battle himself, but it’s not as easy to conceptualize in his head, when he’s seen him soft in the morning light, laughing at some dumb shit Tetsurou said, and huge hands holding out a baby bird with a sprained wing, eyes wide, asking _can we help it_.

Now, he looks just as dangerous as he probably always is, and it’s jarring to say the least.

“Fortification?! Captain, now is the best time to retaliate!” He’s sharp movements and frustration, bustling in a near-frantic pace. “If we strike back now, then they will see their error of their ways, and we can—”

“In which reality would attacking them back persuade them to cease their own assault, General?” Sawamura slides his glasses from his nose, folding them and tossing them carelessly on the papers covering his desk. “The only safe thing to do right now is to increase the defences here as soon as possible.”

Bokuto scoffs. “If we look cowardly by only defending our King, won’t the citizens on the outskirts of the kingdom take that badly? That we would prefer to protect our King, and send no reinforcements of any kind to the outlying villages? They would have us hanged if given the chance.”

Sawamura...admittedly hadn’t considered that. He’s quiet for too long, and Bokuto slows. The silence encroaches, oppressive, choking them both.

“We,” Daichi starts voice cracking. He clears it. “We don’t know enough, it’s...it’s too early.”

Koutarou finally sits, flopping ungracefully onto one of the soft couches Daichi keeps in his offices for this specific reason. His head is in his hands. “I know, it’s just—I just want to keep us all as safe as we can, while also protecting everyone we can manage to.”

Daichi stands, lips pursed. He drifts to Koutarou’s side, sitting a fair distance away to allow the distance Kou may or may not need.

Koutarou just lifts his head, and flops forward into Daichi’s lap. “This diplomacy shit _sucks,"_ he mutters into Dai’s legs.

Daichi can’t help the chuckle that falls from his lips like dewdrops in a morning rain. “You knew that when you first took this job, Kou.”

He moves his head so his words are less muffled. “Yeah, but I didn’t think it’d be part of my actual job!! Tooru has you and Tetsu for this shit; I’m too much of an action man to be of any real help.”

Daichi can’t help the hand he drops to Koutarou’s hair, sweeping the gray and white strands between his fingers. Kou hums and melts into Daichi a little. “You’re very clear-headed about a lot of things, though. We need your strategic thinking for more than just battle plans, dear.”

“That doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Kou grumbles mournfully, and Dai blurts out another laugh.

* * *

Bokuto convenes with Kuroo and Sawamura a few days later. Kuroo has mainly been running interference between the courts and the king, and hasn’t had a chance to sit down with them yet.

The first thing he says as he blusters into Sawamura’s office, door banging against the wall, is, “Gods above, part of me wishes Ushiwaka would just attack for real already. Then we’d know straight away if it was bullshit or not.”

Bokuto can understand what he means a little, but just Sawamura sighs. “Kuroo, you shouldn’t joke like that, when people’s lives are on the line.”

Kuroo paces around the room twice. He pauses in a corner, staring out the window across from Bokuto, so his face isn’t visible.

“That’s the worst part of this,” he murmurs, and his tone is quiet and cold, and a little grim. “It’s that I’m not joking at all.”

“You know that isn’t an option,” Sawamura says, tone sharp, unyielding. “There are people living in those border towns.”

It’s like Kuroo hadn’t heard him speak at all. “If we bait Shiratorizawa to another small town, then we’ll know. We could come up with some story, make them think we have extra resources there, or something. And if they attack, then we can—”

“Kuroo,” Bokuto says, small, “if we do that, we’re risking too much. The captain’s right.”

Kuroo spins on his heel, “You two have seen Oikawa, right? He’s a mess right now, as he should be, if we need to begin preparing for a war we may or may not need to wage ourselves. It’s tearing him apart, and anything I can do to—”

“That’s just it!” Sawamura’s on his feet now, volume rising with him. “It may _or may not_ be an act of war. We don’t know for sure yet.”

“I understand that you want to help,” Bokuto says. “I’m in the same boat. I just wanna send the whole godsdamned army out myself and—well. That’s clearly not an option either.”

He looks up at them, eyes soft, a little pained. “We just have to wait. You sent a request to Iwaizumi?”

Kuroo nods tersely.

Bokuto nods too, chest loosening just that little bit. “Then he’ll find out for sure, and he’ll send a falcon in a week or two when he’s completed his investigation.”

Kuroo inhales, exhales, shaky in a way Bokuto rarely sees.

(They all know, then, that Oikawa’s not the only one being torn apart.)

“Okay,” Kuroo says, tension dripping away from him like an icicle melting in the sun. “Okay,” he says again, and sighs as big as his lungs will let him.

Koutarou sighs with him, like they’re all switching gears together.

“Dai,” Tetsurou mumbles, “can I have a hug?”

“Of course, dear,” Daichi says, and he has Tetsu wrapped up in his arms, head tucked over his shoulder and tucked against his broad chest.

It makes Koutarou smile, the way they are with each other. It’s the softest he ever sees either of them, when they put aside everything, and just comfort each other.

“Thank you,” Kou hears Tetsurou whisper, and he’s not quite sure he’s meant to hear.

Daichi hums, pressing his fingers into the tension that constantly resides in Tetsu’s shoulders.

“You too, Koutarou,” he says into Daichi’s chest, and it makes Koutarou laugh.

“What did I do, even?” He’s smiling at his two boyfriends, because they hang the moon and stars for him each night.

Tetsurou stands straight, and takes Daichi’s hand tenderly, pulling them both down to the sofa while making a grabby hand at Kou. “You keep my head on straight,” Tetsu says. “Now come over here and snuggle me, dammit. Enough work for today.”

Kou feels his smile go blinding-bright as he complies. Gods, he loves them so much. “Sounds good to me, sweetheart.”

* * *

They wait with bated breath for another ten days, before Oikawa calls the three of them to the royal study, and they know.

Oikawa is wearing a rut into the floor with the way he’s pacing.

“I just—” he starts, when he sees them come in, “...I didn’t want to open it alone.”

There’s a scroll on his desk, amid the chaos there. It has Iwaizumi’s family crest on the wax seal.

It looks smaller than it should be, for how much of a difference it might cause.

They all stand, just staring at the little bundle or parchment and string like it would burst into flames if they looked away.

Kuroo steps up to the table. “Okay,” he says, eyes careful. “Do you want me to do it for you?”

“No, I can. I’m just...scared.” Oikawa sounds so defeated, that it takes everything in Kuroo not to sweep him up and damn this whole thing to hell.

(They’ve talked about it before, how it’s harder for each of them to do their jobs when they don’t set boundaries for which roles they need to be filling. Right now, they’re the King and his men, not lovers settling in for the night, or stretching lazily in the sunrise.

Right now, it’s never been more difficult to be just one or the other.)

In a burst of movement, Oikawa snatches up the report, breaking the seal on it quickly.

Kuroo watches him scan it quickly, the flick of Oikawa’s eyes putting Kuroo’s heart hot in his throat.

Oikawa freezes suddenly, dropping the parchment to his desk as he flops into the chair, head in his hands.

Kuroo grabs for it, almost before it settles on the desktop, and reads aloud:

_“Majesty—_

_I did as you asked, with success. It’s all taken care of. No connection. Hope you and your advisors are well. My mother wishes to see the palace once again, come spring. Will send word of the dates later if you are amicable to the idea._

_Iwaizumi.”_

“No connection,” Sawamura whispers, and relief wracks Kuroo’s chest as he finally breathes. His heart is still beating like it’s trying to jump out his mouth, but at least now, it’s because they’re so, so fortunate.

“He even used our code,” Oikawa murmurs, between choked inhales, “Everything’s really okay.”

They’re all quiet for as long as they dare.

“Your Majesty—” Bokuto starts, eyebrows curved tentatively.

“Call me Tooru,” he murmurs, gaze relaxed for the first time in weeks. “Is that okay?”

Now that he’s received the okay, Koutarou shines like the sun. “Of course, sweetheart.”

Tetsurou cuts him off with his own smile, more of a warm glow than a bright one. “I was about to suggest the same. We done with work for the day?”

“If I have anything to say about it!” Tooru tutted petulantly.

“You have literally the whole say on that matter,” Daichi rumbles, reaching out to rub a hand up and down Tooru’s back.

“I know. And we’re definitely done.”

“Then hows-about we settle down somewhere a little more comfy then?”

Koutarou’s idea resonates very strongly with Tetsu, and Daichi looks like there’s nothing he’d enjoy more.

Tooru leads the way, smiling devilishly, and the way his hips sashay out behind him says a lot about what he has in mind.

* * *

After the stressful week they’ve had, it’s clear ‘spoiling Tooru’ is what’s on the agenda tonight.

He thinks he deserves it, all told, so he can’t complain.

The second Tooru’s bedroom door closes, Kou is on him, hands on his cheeks, and kissing the living daylights out of him. Tooru responds with enthusiasm, because not enjoying a kiss from Bokuto Koutarou is like not enjoying ice cream, or milk bread, or, like, breathing.

Someone’s hands climb his back, under his tunic, and it sends heat through Tooru’s chest. A quiet groan springs from his chest, and Daichi chuckles behind him, his broad palms mapping the soft skin at Tooru’s waist.

He squeezes a few times, and Tooru twitches, because, dammit, that tickles. He tells Daichi as much, and he just laughs at him.

“Rude, Dai-chan,” Tooru says, pout firmly in place.

“You’re cute,” is all Daichi says, and a flush warms the base of Tooru’s neck, and up to his ears.

Koutarou claims his attention again with a hot, wet kiss to the soft spot under his jaw. Tooru can’t help another short sound from far back in his throat. He can’t give himself away too early; if he does, his boyfriends really will make him squirm.

(Maybe that’s not a bad thing, part of him protests.)

Tetsu and Daichi are having their own bit of fun too, kissing sloppy and hot, tongues everywhere, teeth bright and sharp in the waning sunset.

“Bed, bed,” Tooru gasps, as one of Koutarou’s broad palms grips his hip like it’s his tether to the mortal realm. He wants those hands all over every inch of him.

“Mmm,” Kou hums, hoisting Tooru bodily. He shoves their torsos together, and Tooru thanks the gods every day for muscley boyfriends. He has his legs wrapped around Koutarou’s middle, ankles locked behind him, arms woven tight around them both. Kou’s lips never leave him, and thin moans are sprouting from Tooru’s throat like wildflowers.

Koutarou finally throws him to the soft mattress, towering over Tooru with the most intriguing glint in his eye. “You make pretty sounds,” he murmurs, and a knifepoint of anticipation drags up Tooru’s spine.

“Hm,” Daichi says, suddenly close, and hell, they have the same expression. “I think I want to hear more.”

Tetsurou takes this as his cue, and kisses the side of Kou’s neck, before sneaking around to nibble at Tooru’s lips. Koutarou’s hands find Tooru’s hips again, and Daichi just stands there, chuckling at the choked-back noises that Tooru refuses to allow out from between his lips.

“Fuck,” he hisses into the heat of the room, and three smiles taunt him from all sides. They’ve got him so sensitive already, without even touching him.

_I really am in trouble,_ he thinks, and not a moment later, Tetsu has grabbed both his wrists in one of his dexterous hands, fingers pressing them back into the pillow above Tooru’s head.

“Let us take care of you,” he murmurs, his devilish smirk softened with clear adoration.

Tooru is helpless against the onslaught of heat that rises to his cheeks, and pools in his lap. He’s twitching now, embarrassingly enough, but his three lovers just watch him with dopey smiles on their faces.

“Get on with it, _fuck,"_ he commands, a royal decree with no paperwork, and they smile wider.

Daichi looks like a cat with cream. “Sweet thing. You know you’d be unsatisfied if it were over too quickly.”

Tooru groans again, cock twitching again, and Kuroo chuckles at it. “Yeah? Is he onto something then?”

It’s hard to pout when he’s _so damn turned on,_ but Tooru thinks he manages it anyway.

Koutarou laughs, full-chested and so warm. “Just try denying it.”

Tooru pointedly doesn’t, and Tetsurou kisses him again, more affectionate than deep this time—but it’s the calm before the storm, Tooru knows, because his boyfriends are brilliant strategists in bed as they are out of it. Divert, distract, play off—they play him like a damn harp, and he loves every second of it.

Tetsu kisses him slower, deeper, more pointedly. He pulls his hand away to adjust, eyeing Tooru pointedly. Tooru arches petulantly in response, pressing his hands harder into the pillows above him.

_I’ll be good,_ Tooru doesn’t say (aloud).

Tetsurou smiles like he did anyway. “Good.”

Tooru sighs in a huge gust, face heating under another shiver. He doesn’t _need_ to be told he’s being good, but...maybe it’s not exactly something he hears regularly, considering he’s usually the one in charge.

Daichi pulls away from Koutarou’s neck, smirking at his dark red handiwork, spotted in a few places, some a bit less subtle than others.

“You know he’s gonna get shit for that later, right,” Tetsurou murmurs, but he’s grinning too, like he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Do you hear him protesting?” Daichi smirks, like he has masterminded a truly villainous plan to fruition. He pets through Koutarou’s hair a few times, leaning over the rumpled comforter to kiss his cheek gently.

Kou looks fucked out, for lack of a better descriptor. He’s panting slightly, like he’s just run a mile (though Tooru knows it takes more than just one mile to make Bokuto Koutarou breathe like that), lips as red as the bruises on his neck. They’re small, but dark, and another flash of heat races through him at the thought of his lover carrying those marks for more than just a few days.

Tetsu sighs, rolling his eyes, and leaning down to kiss Tooru again, from where he’s perched at his king’s elbow. As much as Tooru likes positions of power for himself, he certainly enjoys his lovers taking control as well.

Tooru hums when Tetsurou licks at his lips, forgetting momentarily about the silent command in his spymaster’s eyes, and shifting to put his hands in Tetsu’s hair.

“No.”

The word cuts through the hazy quiet of the room, now dark without the glowing sunset of their west-facing window. Tooru startles slightly, hands jumping away, back to the bed, eyes going wide to assess how badly he’s fucked up. Usually Tetsu is decently forgiving when it comes to breaking rules—at least ones that won’t get anyone hurt—but his reaction speaks volumes, and the sharpness of his tone says more with that one word than anything else.

“Kou. Dai.”

Tooru can’t look away from Tetsurou like this. There’s a razor-edge to his gaze, and Tooru feels pinned under that look like he’s a specimen in a museum. His fingers curl, nails pressing into his palms. _How bad is it,_ he thinks, with just a tinge of irrationality in his mind’s voice. _Will they leave me like this?_

“His Majesty needs a bit of...assistance in doing what he’s told.”

The voice in Tooru’s head races, jittering, but somehow his thoughts are silent. His head is nearly empty.

“Keep him where he is.”

Koutarou and Daichi chuckle, and Tooru knows, he _knows_ that his lovers can be intimidating, downright terrifying when they want to be, towering masses of hard-earned physically prowess and intelligence and scarily-uncanny bets, but it’s quite a bit different when he himself is on the other end of those stares. His jaw goes tight, eyes wide, wider, throat bobbing on a loud swallow.

_Keep him where he is,_ it echoes through him. _They’re not going anywhere._

Tension leaves him, a drop at a time. His shoulders drop from where they’d crept to his ears. His palms sting, then soothe with release. Tooru swallows again, but to reset and relax his face once more.

“Mm,” Tetsu hums, eyes less hard now, but just as promising. “You’re not quite off the hook, sweet thing. Don’t get too comfy.”

Tooru’s hair shifts on the pillow as his head tilts, one eyebrow raising slightly.

And then he feels it, sees it.

Daichi’s palm is the one to keep Tooru’s crossed wrists exactly where he wants them, and he pulls Tooru’s attention effortlessly with his mouth, kissing him sweet, deep, and dirty as soon as he can manage. Tooru can’t help a hum in the back of his throat. It’s getting harder and harder to swallow the noises back; maybe his defenses will be dismantled sooner than he thought.

This proves to be a very effective distraction, as two more sets of hands press into him, two at his waist, two at his hips.

A touch of lips at his sternum, a wet kiss to his inner thigh.

Tooru gasps hopelessly as Tetsurou circles one of his nipples with his tongue. They’re peaked already, with the shivers constantly drawn through him by his three lovers, and Tetsu doesn’t let him breathe, not even for a moment.

He’s got Tooru’s left nipple in his mouth, sucking it with the rapt attention he puts into most things he cares about. Figuratively, he’s got Tooru by the throat like this. He’s so sensitive, now, already squirming up into and away from the sparks of sensation.

Tooru’s helpless, pressed into the bed, pinned by broad palms and heated gazes. Tetsu and Daichi have his full attention, pulling his focus between them like it’s the prize in an extra competitive game of tug-of-war.

How unwise of him, to let Koutarou slip beneath his notice.

The hands pressing into his hips shift, shoving his thighs up and apart, and Tooru falls open like a moonflower, back arching, lips falling open even further against Daichi’s, chest shoved up into Tetsurou’s touch. His cock twitches against his stomach, once, twice. He’s blinded by the heady overwhelm of feeling as a third mouth touches his skin, intent on making him squirm.

Holding back his sounds his taking too much out of him now, and the first full-chested groan that rises from Tooru’s throat encourages a chorus from the three men around him, intent on his pleasure and happiness as much as they are on his torture at the hand of sensation.

Tooru can’t think, can barely breathe in the best of ways, eyes shut tight against the waves rocking against him. Koutarou’s mouth has moved from the back of his thighs—undoubtedly littered with marks, just as they should be—to one of Tooru’s most sensitive spots.

They’re all ready for it when Tooru bucks at the molten-wet drag of Kou’s tongue against his hole. The sound he makes is filthy at best, closer to sacreligious at worst. Koutarou growls, repeats the movement.

Tooru’s second moan is just as debauched as the first. Daichi’s breath catches, stuttering over Tooru’s damp bottom lip. Tetsu is pressing into Tooru’s hips, keeping him in place as he squirms, heat lightning jolting up and down his spine. His attentive work at Tooru’s nipples has paused, and a sigh ghosts over Tooru’s chest, like Tetsu’s breath is being stolen from him by the way Tooru shudders under him. A choked whine worms its way from between Tooru’s lips in protest, as the cool air on his nipples nearly stings with overstimulation.

“Alright, alright,” Tetsurou murmurs, smile heartbreakingly fond in the quarter-light of the moon reaching from the far side of the castle. He shifts from the oversensitive buds at Tooru’s chest to kiss Koutarou once between Tooru’s thighs, before his attention turns to the much-neglected cock that lays bobbing just below.

Daichi pulls away from Tooru’s mouth to hear exactly what he sounds like, strung out, high on his lovers’ touch as they take him apart piece by piece.

Tooru is near-incoherent, knows he is on some level, but he’s as powerless to resist as he is devoid of the desire to do so.

Tears bud at the corner of Tooru’s eyes, the sensation of so much pleasure all centered on his lower half overwhelming just enough. He’s a mess like this, has to be with the way he’s shaking in his boyfriends’ grip.

“Fuck—gotta—gonna—” he chokes out, arms straining against Daichi’s grasp.

“Come for us, sweetheart,” Daichi whispers, hot and cloying close, but letting Tooru breathe. “Can you give it to us? Please, we wanna see you come.”

When he hears such a request in a tone so sweet and deceptively gentle, who is Tooru but a man in love? He is a king, yes, strong and strident upon his throne, but now, broken down into nothing but sweat and desire and the touch of his lovers’ skin, he exists to obey, to comply.

The silent scream that braces itself at the back of his throat reverberates as his body simply lets go.

It’s drawn-out, long and jolting. They let him shudder through it, Daichi releasing his hands at last, and Koutarou retreating to keep his hips still for Tetsurou who simply stays, tight, wet, swallowing hot around Tooru’s dick. The sensation is almost too much as is, and Tooru spasms under the weight of it.

Once the first peak has run its course, the aftershocks speed Tooru’s breathing far past what could be considered safe. His hands scrabble for someone, anyone to hold him close and warm before the overstimulation spurs the panic attack he feels fuzzing the edge of his vision.

Daichi is closest, and he presses his whole weight against Tooru’s chest, murmuring comfortingly. Tooru isn’t capable of understanding actual human speech right now, but he appreciates the gestures more than he can admit. His heart continues to hammer away at his ribcage like it’s trying to escape its confines, but Tooru’s breathing slows slightly with the added pressure against his chest.

Distantly, he feels Kou and Tetsu stroking up and down his legs to try and warm the sweat-cooled skin there. It’s comforting and it brings him back to them little by little.

After a few more minutes of slowed breathing, steady heartbeats replacing the erratic ones, skin warming under loving, careful touches.

Eventually Tooru shifts more consciously, and hums a little. “I’m okay,” he murmurs, and Daichi kisses the side of his head.

“You sure?” he says, quiet as he leans away a little to play with Tooru’s hair.

“Mm, yeah...it was a lot, but _fuck_ I needed that.”

Tetsurou laughs, petting Tooru’s hip as Daichi climbs off him. “After the week we’ve had? I know I’m with you on that.”

Kou nods vigorously, leaning up for a kiss. Tetsu obliges him, and Tooru smiles contentedly. He likes how they all fit together, how he knows they would be friends even if they never got together romantically. It’s comforting, to know that they’re the type of people who are destined to be together in some capacity.

_Enough of this mushy crap,_ Tooru thinks. “Alright, somebody gimme a dick to suck.”

They all look surprised, but Koutarou’s the one to speak up.

“...You’re not done?” he says.

Tooru smirks at them, sitting up. “Nope. You made me come pretty fuckin’ good, so now it’s your turn. Choose amongst yourselves who’ll get what.”

The three boys look at each other for a moment, before Daichi jumps at his chance, and strips down first. “Can I have your mouth, sweet?”

“Why, yes, of course,” Tooru simpers, all fake palace decorum while he switches places with a delightfully naked Daichi.

Daichi sighs hard when Tooru finally gets his mouth around the head of his cock, just a few sloppy kisses around the head. Tooru has been thinking about this ever since Koutarou kissed him earlier tonight. He spits on it until it’s slick before he wraps his lips around it and takes it as deep as he can, going as slow as he wants.

A choked inhale from Daichi, and an amazed chuckle from Tetsurou, who says, “Only our Tooru can look so pretty sucking cock.”

“Don’t you damn well know it,” Tooru says slyly, pulling off for just a moment, “Royal decree.”

That startles a laugh from each of them, and Tooru swallows Dai down again, waiting to hear a groan before he lets up. He looks up at Daichi through his lashes, not bothering to try for innocence, but open, obvious seduction.

It works, or it seems to, because Daichi hisses a curse, and slips a hand in his hair.

And just like that, he’s got Daichi _exactly_ where he wants him.

Tooru reaches back, grips Daichi’s hand with his own, and pushes his own head further down Daichi’s cock.

“Oh, fuck,” Koutarou mutters, and there’s a rustle of textiles as he looses his breeches and tunic. Tetsu follows suit as well, as Tooru hears his thin-soled boots hit the floor.

Daichi finally does as he’s told, and presses Tooru’s mouth down around his cock. Tooru’s got him so far back in his throat that no noise can escape, but Kou has him covered, groaning like he’s the one getting sucked dry. Tooru feels like he’s being split open, spit dribbling at the corners of his mouth as Daichi’s hips jolt up to meet him.

“You’re really gonna give it to him, huh?” Tetsurou murmurs, reaching over to pet a hand down Tooru’s cheek, hollowed around Daichi’s cock.

“Ff—ah,” Daichi says, and Tooru can hear the way his face is scrunched up, eyebrows pulled together, cute, like he’s tasted a lemon.

He pulls away just long enough to get a proper breath in his lungs, before Daichi’s fingers weave tight in his hair, and Tooru’s face is pulled back down around his dick.

“Mm, fuck, babe,” Daichi groans, and it rasps up Tooru’s spine just right; it jolts through him like a bolt of lightning, and he suddenly notices that he’s hard again.

Koutarou laughs softly, both teasing and just plain _soft._ “That’s our baby, good enough to eat right up.”

Tetsurou chuckles with him, but it’s a much darker sound than Tooru was ready for. “Don’t mind if I do,” he says, and Tooru barely has a moment of recognition before Tetsu’s teeth sink into the meat of his ass.

Tooru pulls away to gasp and moan. “Fuckin’—ah—”

Daichi makes aborted sounds of protest—he must be so incredibly close, Tooru thinks, a little proud—until Tooru settles around him again, hips higher now, as wet and sloppy as he himself can handle.

It only takes a little more, and Daichi comes quietly, tremors stuttering his hips as the breath catches in his chest. It looks like a surrender, like it’s the only thing that Daichi can hope to do under Tooru like this.

Swallowing thickly, Tooru pulls off slowly, trying to save Daichi the overstimulation, but he still winces.

“Ah.”

“Mm, sorry, love,” Tooru murmurs, enraptured by the extra softness Daichi carries in his frame now, as he does after an especially good orgasm.

Fondness warms Daichi’s gaze, and he pets across Tooru’s cheek. “Ahh...you really aren’t done, huh.”

Tooru knows that his smile is conniving, and leans into it. “That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

Tetsu sighs heavily, and fists a hand at the back of Tooru’s head, pulling him in harshly to kiss him, wet and open.

“Fuck,” he mutters, ever eloquent between presses.

Tooru smiles into it, teething cheekily at his lips.

“Me next,” Tetsurou says, pulling Tooru over. He’s always been just a little competitive with the other two—he goes especially crazy when he can have Tooru as sloppy seconds instead of firsts. Following his lead like this, when Tooru wants nothing more than to satisfy him—them—is the easiest thing he’s had to do.

Tetsu moans in his mouth, and Tooru opens up for him. “Can’t handle you,” he says, groaning, “Can’t handle your mouth. You’re too hot, Tooru, can’t be legal.”

Tooru laughs, breaking from the seductress he’s playing at being. “I’m the one who makes the laws, silly Tetsu.”

“Welp, we’re screwed,” he says, and Kou laughs, warming Tooru like a sunrise.

“Almost, yeah,” Koutarou murmurs, smiling wide, and Tooru chuckles along with him.

But then Tetsu pulls him in till he’s eye-level with his cock, and Tooru stops laughing.

His mouth is around it before he’s realised that’s where he wants it. He’s drunk on the feeling, the humidity of the air around him going to his head just enough for it to be pleasant.

Tetsurou likes it a little harsher than Daichi; he’s less prone to overstimulation, and Tooru uses that to his advantage. He sucks hard, with as much pressure as he can muster, until he feels broad palms—Koutarou’s, he thinks—at his hips.

His suspicions are confirmed when the hands lift briefly, before returning; one is at the round of his ass, but the other has touched into something thick and smoothly slick, and presses at his hole.

(Tetsurou had discovered the mixture years ago, by accident. He had been trying to make—something, none of them can remember now, an evolved form of blasting jelly, maybe—but things went awry, and he ended up with the thick, syrupy glycerin-like mixture. It was ineffective as a weapon, but it also eased...certain activities significantly. Of course, that wasn’t a conclusion they immediately came to, but after much careful research, Tetsurou deemed it safe to use. There seemed to be no long-term side-effects, and the mixture caused no infection or chemical discomfort, even when consumed—didn’t taste awful either. None of them had grown a third arm or somesuch, so it couldn’t be that bad, right?)

Koutarou rubs the mixture liberally over Tooru’s asshole. Tooru hitches a breath, sucking Tetsu’s cock even harder. He’s near-frantic now, spit everywhere as he bobs as fast as his throat will allow. It’s even harder to hold himself back now, when he’s got everything he could want right here in front of him, just a hair's-breadth away.

Kou worms a finger in him, pressing insistently, and Tooru has to pull back so he can moan properly.

“Tight,” he mutters into Tooru’s backside, adding another finger, and the wider split has Tooru seeing stars.

Tetsurou groans with him, and pulls Tooru up by his ears and the soft swoop of his hair at the back of his head, so he can kiss him wet, sloppy, deep.

“Make him sing,” Daichi murmurs, sounding a little sleepy, and it takes Tooru a moment too long to process his words. Koutarou crooks his fingers, and Tooru’s vision winks out for a second. The sensations are all just a little too much, but the best kind that he never wants to be free of.

Tetsu hums against his open mouth, smiling as he kisses across Tooru’s bottom lip and up his cheek. “There we are. He sure is pretty like this, huh.”

Koutarou laughs, adding another finger and nudging the spot again, and Tooru feels himself shiver and squirm. He feels almost separated from himself like this; he consciously knows what his body is doing, but it’s not by his order. His lovers are bending him to their will in the best of ways, and Tooru trusts them to take care of him more than he trusts himself.

“I can’t wait any longer,” Kou rumbles, fumbling to lean forward. Tooru feels his false-starts, as his cock slips in the mess of slick at his hole, tip catching again and again, but never going in. Anticipation holds their breath hostage.

Tetsurou’s sweet talk starts up then, like it’s been building up all this time, which is probably true.

“Oh, look at you, sweet thing, you’re so ready for Koutarou to take you, just like that, huh? You want to get split open on that fat cock of his? Say it, beautiful, you know he wants to hear it.”

Tooru can barely manage a gasp. “Pl—ease!”

“Good, good boy, there you go, you’re so good. Give him what he wants, Kou.”

Kou is just as powerless as Tooru when Tetsu starts talking like that, and slips in deep and slow.

Tooru’s back arches, trying to get Koutarou’s dick in him even further, but Tetsu keeps him exactly where he is. Tetsurou has his fingers threaded in Tooru’s hair, and Tooru can feel his eyes like lit matches gliding over his undoubtedly-wrecked face.

“There we go,” he murmurs, and Tooru and Koutarou moan in unison.

They hear chuckling from Daichi, who seems to be less sleepy now, and he leans over for a tender kiss to Tooru’s cheek. “You be good for him,” he says, and Tooru almost bumps their heads together with how hard he’s nodding. He will be good, he _will._

Tetsurou kisses Daichi’s cheek, and Tooru can hear the smile in his voice as he lets Tooru’s head go, and pets gently through his hair. “Oh, he is.”

An affirmation like that is a drug, especially now, like this, and Tooru finally shoves back onto Koutarou’s cock like he’s wanted to this whole time.

They both groan, and Koutarou’s hands grip into Tooru’s hips, one sticky, one clean, as he starts into a brutal pace, fucking Tooru open quick and sure. Tooru loses track of most everything after that, lost in the rhythm of Kou’s thrusts and the occasional catch of Tetsu or Dai’s lips against his cheek, temple, mouth, hairline. It all blends together so quickly, as Koutarou’s hands press sternly into his hips and waist.

They continue just like that, hard and fast, until Koutarou’s hips start stuttering like Daichi’s had, and Tetsu says, sharp and sure, like he knows he’ll be listened to—

“Wait.”

Tooru _whines,_ because he can’t help it, of course. He wants to get fucked until his brain actually shuts down, or until Kou finishes, whichever comes first.

He doesn’t expect Koutarou to comply, at first, because his hips slow but don’t stop, but then he actually _does_ stop, and it’s worse, somehow, than if he just stopped immediately. Tooru can feel the sensation go from overwhelming to manageable in too-quick realtime.

“Nn—no, please—” he chokes out, and feels his face heat at the way Tetsurou laughs.

“It’s like we said,” Tetsu murmurs, smile devilish and fingers too-gentle in his hair. “If it’s over too soon, you wouldn’t be satisfied.”

Something rakes through Tooru, heedless of his current situation, and his hips jump back at that particular onslaught. His head drops, and he groans into Tetsurou’s neck.

“Unless you’d rather stop?” Tetsurou asks, question genuine despite his tone. Tooru can see in his face, that if Tooru wanted, they really could stop right now.

“No, you’re—not wrong,” Tooru stutters, heart thrumming against his ribs, squeezing Tetsu tighter. He tries to stop his hips from jumping, but he doesn’t do a good job, apparently, because Tetsurou smirks endlessly at him.

“That’s what I thought.” He murmurs against the shell of Tooru’s ear, making him shiver. “Go ahead, Kou. Tease him some more.”

Koutarou has gathered himself more than is fair, and laughs along. His hips start moving again, but the pace is much slower, traitorously so, and Tooru squirms back, trying to persuade more out of him.

Kou keeps the same even pace, but also finds it prudent to surprise Tooru with a few especially deep presses, interspersed and irregular. Even back away from the edge as Tooru was, he approaches it remarkably quickly.

Tooru is a ball of desperation by the time Koutarou gets close again, but evidently his antics are proved sufficient. Tetsurou looks over the two of them carefully, and nods.

“Okay,” he says. “Give him what he wants.”

As soon the words slip from between his lips, Kou is driving into Tooru with such force that it steals his breath once more, and Tooru is coming all over himself before he can breathe again.

* * *

Tooru thinks he does actually black out that time, because he shakes awake what feels like a moment later, but everything has changed. He’s under the comforter, and pillowed up on Koutarou’s chest. It’s so comfortable he almost snuggles back in, consciousness be damned, but he hears a concerned “hey”, so he lets his eyes open.

“You were out like a light,” Tetsu says from his spot next to them on the bed. Daichi is sitting at the foot, robe hanging loosely around his shoulders. He’s got his slippers on, as well as his worrying face.

Tooru just sighs a little, before rolling over and smooshing his face into one of Kou’s impressive pectorals. “Mm. ‘S fine.”

Kou chuckles, and Tetsurou sighs as footsteps putter away. “Tooru, you passed out. You need to drink something, or at least let us help you get cleaned up properly. We can run a bath.”

If they’re insisting on mother-henning him, then fine. He’ll play along for now.

Tooru sits up gingerly, arching his back, and mentally checking for sore spots.. “Really, Tetsu, it’s fine. Koutarou’s magical cock just...does that to people sometimes.”

“You mean, to you,” Tetsurou says, handing him a glass of water.

“To me,” Tooru concedes, shrugging and downing the liquid with barely a breath between gulps. “Really though, you don’t need to—”

“Too late,” Daichi calls from the adjoined bathroom, bubbling water from the pump mixing with his tone as sweat-smelling steam begins to float through the open doorway.

“Dammit, Dai-chan,” Tooru smiles, and giggles when Tetsu starts kissing playfully into his neck.

“Let’s get you warmed up then, Your Majesty,” Koutarou murmurs, eyes soft, and they all stand—shakily, in Tooru’s case, sex legs are no fucking joke—before they lead Tooru into the bath.

* * *

Tooru dozes off in the tub too, apparently, because he wakes up in a bed with clean sheets, snuggled into Koutarou again. Tetsu is still asleep next to them, face shoved into Kou’s shoulder, but Daichi is already up, and has been, if the breakfast tray he’s holding is anything to go by.

“C’mon, boys, up ‘n at ‘em” he says, loud enough to rouse Tetsurou. “Come eat before the food gets cold. We have a meeting with the planning committee in about an hour. We all need to be presentable by then.”

Tetsu shifts, and just shoves his face even further under the covers. Daichi sighs, and sets the tray down at the bedside, and sits by Tetsurou’s side, petting into his hair to try and coax him awake and up.

Tetsurou really is a bit of a cat by nature, and rolls over to snuggle into Daichi, just like he does with anyone playing with his hair.

“Time to get up, sweets,” Daichi says, rubbing up and down Tetsu’s back.

“Nnoooooooo…” comes Tetsurou’s muffled reply from the comforter.

“I’m with him,” Tooru mutters into Kou’s chest. “Stupid Ushiwaka. Now I have to keep planning this stupid party.”

Koutarou laughs. It sounds nice from this close. “He’s stupid for _not_ attacking?”

“Yes. No.” Tooru says, still buried. “He’s just stupid. I don’t make the rules.”

“Yes, you do.” “Yeah you do.” “Babe, you literally do.” His three lovers laugh at their near-unison.

“C’mon,” Kou whispers, close to Tooru’s ear. “I bet Daichi’ll give you a really nice morning kiss is you get up and eat.”

Tooru considers. “...Are there waffles? With powdered sugar?”

“And strawberry clotted cream,” Daichi laughs. “Remember how long we’ve known each other? I wouldn’t let you down.”

“...” Tooru thinks for another moment, but they all know the battle is already won. “...Alright, fine.”

He sits up quickly. The waffles are delicious as always, and the morning kisses he gets make it even more worth it.

“Still don’t want to plan the stupid party,” he pouts, as they get ready together, pulling on clean tunics and breeches.

They all laugh, and head out to face the day together, just like always.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> i did the math its literally 60% porn sorry bout it
> 
> again, thanks to adam and the mods for the bang!!! i had a blast, and it was wonderful working with you all!!!!


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